Miss Woodhouse's Musings

…about life, the universe, and everything. Don't panic!

You Can’t Go Home Again

on 22 November 2009

Perhaps a short preface is needed here. I wrote this a few weeks back and posted it on a private forum. I think, though, that it needs to be on this blog- it reflects my heart more accurately than anything else I’ve written on here. Forgive my anger; know that it flows out of a profound sadness. –Miss Woodhouse

Death has a way of bringing people together. This past week a dear older friend of mine passed on suddenly. We weren’t amazingly close, but nonetheless his death threw me into sadness and despondency.

His funeral was held at the church I once called home; the church I belonged to for thirteen years, the church that baptized me, the church that nearly destroyed my relationship with God.

Nearly three years removed from my leaving, I found it interesting that the reasons for my departure at first seemed negligible. I sat in my old pew, looking around at familiar face after familiar face. I decided that the old saying was wrong- you can go home again.

Then the service started. In a curious blend of repulsion and nostalgia, for the next two hours I relived what I loved about my old church and what I hated about it. The music was glorious; the congregation manipulation was not. The eulogies were heartfelt and emotional, honouring of the man who had gone Home all too soon; but the sermon was selfishly centered on another person’s wishes and opinions on life.

Face after face. Person after person. Life after life. People I walked away from when I walked out on the hypocrisy and lies. People- many of whom are growing old. People- many of whom will not live to see another president. People- many of whom will go Home all too soon.

My time with them is brutally ripped away from me. My friend who died, I missed two years of seeing him every week. I missed two years of hearing him sing in the choir. I missed two years of letting him know what a great man I thought he was.

I’ll never get those two years back.

I made my choice. I chose to follow God and His standards, and not the ways of man. I walked away from the church in order to walk into the arms of my Father. Salvation may very well be free, but it will cost everything. It is costing me the chance to glean wisdom from the older generation, the chance to worship in perfect freedom of expression. I am richer in eternity for my position, but I am the poorer here on earth for it.

I miss my home; I miss my family. I miss the joy and love that flows from them into me.

But you can’t go home again.


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